Nicholas and Alexandra

Producer Sam Spiegel must have been smarting from the colossal success of David Lean after their post-Lawrence of Arabia fall out. Lean made the monumental hit Doctor Zhivago (1965) after casting Spiegel aside, while Spiegel had only a few undistinguished flops (The Chase, Night of the Generals). It seemed the only way to get even with Lean was to beat him at his own game. The result: Nicholas and Alexandra (1971).

In this retelling of Russia's last Tsar, Spiegel was clearly copying the Lawrence formula: take a huge historical event, find two unknowns to star, throw in a prestige director (Franklin J. Schaffner of Patton) and screenwriter (James Goldman of The Lion in Winter) - even "borrowing" several of Lean's collaborators (cinematographer Freddie Young, art director John Box, prop master Eddie Fowlie) for good measure. In spite of this, Nicholas falls far short of a masterpiece.

Tsar Nicholas II (Michael Jayson) is the well-meaning but ineffectual ruler of Russia in 1905. The Russo-Japanese War leads to unrest which culminates in the massacre of protestors at the Winter Palace, forcing Nicholas to give into their demands - convening the Duma and allowing some degree of civil rights. However, agitation by Vladimir Lenin's (Michael Bryant) Bolshevik Party results in the assassination of several of his Ministers, leading to a brutal crackdown and further discontent. Meanwhile, his wife Alexandra (Janet Suzman), driven to despair by son Alexis' (Roderic Noble) hemophilia, finds herself drawn to the mysterious mystic Rasputin (Tom Baker). As Russia is drawn into World War I, food becomes scarce, casualties pile up, discontent rises, and revolution becomes inevitable.

Nicholas and Alexandra is a mostly good film suffering from serious flaws. The biggest problem, besides a slow pace (particularly in the second half), is a schizophrenic focus. It tries to blend an account of Nicholas's private life - his relationship with family and friends, his fateful encounters with Rasputin - with a general account of pre-Revolutionary Russia, succeeding only partially. Lenin and Alexander Kerensky (John McEnery) receive much screen time, but we see only glances of demonstrations, unrest and World War I. In trying to add depth and complexity to the film, Schaffner and Goldman only drag it out interminably.

The film goes out of its way to seem a "tasteful" epic, which grows tiresome. Schaffner's staging seems too static, more concerned with opulent design than drama. It doesn't help that several scenes seem blatantly stolen from Lean's Zhivago - a demonstration leading to a massacre, opulent parties, army mutinies, the Tsar's family toiling on a farm, several long train journeys, rubbing a hole in a frost-covered window. If these scenes achieve nothing else (and some of them admittedly are successful on their own terms), they show that Spiegel's interest was clearly in one-upping his erstwhile collaborator. Although a fine director in his own right, it must be said that Frank Schaffner is no David Lean.

Still, the movie is entertaining. There are several effective set pieces - the Winter Palace massacre, the preparations for war, a military parade at Intermission, a Russian officer's dramatic suicide, Rasputin's grisly assassination - the characters are mostly well-drawn and compelling, and the fine acting and direction make it interesting, at the very least. The movie does stumble in the second half; the scenes of the Romanovs in exile take up too much time while the Civil War and debates over their future occur offscreen, and we can only see so many scenes of the Romanovs squabbling with their jailers before it grows old. Fortunately, the genuinely striking finale makes up for the troubled road getting there.

Schaffner's direction is solid; he undoubtedly has a strong camera eye (or should we credit Freddie Young here?) and delivers some striking set pieces and images throughout - particularly the blood-splattered finale. Certainly the art direction and costume design are flawless, which should surprise no one on a Sam Spiegel production. James Goldman's script is lacking his usual wit and is extremely stiff and didactic, much to the film's detriment. Richard Rodney Bennett contributes a rousing, dramatic score that adds much to the film.

Michael Jayson gives a strong performance as Nicholas. He's a devoted family man and well-meaning bumber who is out of his depth as Tsar, cursed with a lack of vision and flexibility. Janet Suzman received a well-deserved Best Actress nomination for her tragic portrayal of Alexandra. The two leads, both virtually unknown at the time, acquit themselves wonderfully; they have genuine chemistry, and though a bit theatrical at times, each give strong performances that help carry the film.

Supporting the two leads are a galaxy of fine character actors. Standouts include Tom Baker (Doctor Who) as the menacing Rasputin, John McEnery (Zeffirelli's Romeo and Juliet) as Alexander Kerensky, Harry Andrews (Charge of the Light Brigade) and Laurence Olivier (Spartacus) as Nicholas's advisors, Curt Jurgens (Lord Jim) as a German diplomat, and Michael Bryant (Gandhi) as Lenin. Making his film debut is Brian Cox (Braveheart, Troy) as Trotsky.

Nicholas and Alexandra is a nice try, and certainly better than its reputation suggests, but it's far from the masterpiece Spiegel and Schaffner must have envisioned. Still, it's worth a look for history buffs and fans of historical epics.